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When German bands From music stands Play Wagner imperfectly— I bid them go— They don't say no, But off they trot directly! The organ boys They stop their noise With readiness surprising, And grinning herds Of hurdy-gurds Retire apologising! Oh, don't the days seem lank and long When all goes right and nothing goes wrong And isn't your life extremely flat With nothing whatever to grumble at!

I've offered gold, In sums untold, To all who'd contradict me— I've said I'd pay A pound a day To any one who kicked me— I've bribed with toys Great vulgar boys To utter something spiteful. But, bless you, no! They will be so Confoundedly politeful! In short, these aggravating lads They tickle my tastes, they feed my fads, They give me this and they give me that, And I've nothing whatever to grumble at!